No Ordinary Man
by Psi Fi
Summary: Arnold Rimmer retires from being Ace and builds a life for himself on the newly restored Red Dwarf, helping others along the way. Lister/Rimmer
1. An Arnold in Need

Arnold J. Rimmer and Arnold J. Rimmer stared at each other, taking in each other's appearances. Neither was quite sure what to think. One stood straight and tall, while the other was confined to an electric hoverchair.

The standing Arnold looked to be in his early thirties, robustly healthy. His reddish brown hair hung in waves to his collar, thanks to a good straightening shampoo. He wore a silvery gold flight suit with a fur collar he personally thought was a bit garish, though he wore it well. Just under the fringe of his bangs, barely visible on his forehead, was a flat, metallic H. He studied his counterpart, for once unsure what to say.

The other Arnold was equally silent, staring up at the other with cold disdain. This Arnold was somewhat younger, in his mid-twenties. He was healthy, though a bit thinner than the other. His hair was cut simply and, when loose, fell an inch or two below his chin...just long enough that he could pull it into a small ponytail, while he worked. A sketchpad lay open on his lap. Finally, he broke the silence, with a small huff of annoyance.

"Look, if all you want is to gawk at me, could you move to one side, please? You're in the way."

"You're the first Arnold Rimmer I've met that was still on Io," the other replied, moving a few inches to his left.

"Met many Arnold Rimmers have you?" the artist asked skeptically, his eyes and hands returning to his drawing.

"A fair few, yes," the pilot said, amused. "I'm one myself, as a matter of fact, though these days I'm called Ace."

"How wonderful," Arnold retorted, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Did one of my brothers put you up to this? I don't remember anyone saying relatives were visiting."

Ace sighed. The bitterness was understandable, but he knew it was a poison that the younger man needed to leech out of himself. He placed a gentle hand on Arnold's shoulder, shaking his head.

"No one sent me, Arnold. I'm not a relative. I'm you."

"NO," Arnold answered sharply, shrugging off Ace's hand. "I'm me, thank you. I may not be much, but I don't need some glittery ponce coming along and taking my identity."

Ace grimaced, remembering his own reactions to the previous Aces he had met. He spread his hands in surrender, nodding. He knew better, after all, and knew better ways of handling this.

"I'm sorry, old son. What I mean is that I'm a version of you from an alternate reality."

Arnold continued drawing in silence long enough for Ace to consider he was being dismissed. He started to leave, when Arnold spoke again, his voice quiet and thoughtful.

"That's one hell of a story. Smegging ridiculous, really. How do you plan on proving it or am I supposed to just accept it, because we look alike? Identical cousins and all is rare, but hardly unheard of."

"I hadn't given much thought to proving it, really. I guess I could go get a DNA scanner."

"Don't bother," Arnold said, his tone relaxing a bit. "Just tell me."

Ace obliged, telling Arnold the legend of Ace Rimmer, the test pilot who went off to explore multiple realities, becoming a hero to those in need. He told how Ace met his other selves and how these Arnolds took over, whenever the current Ace was dying or retiring. As he spoke, Arnold relaxed, gazing at him with curiosity.

"So, you're a replacement Ace, then?"

"That's right, old bean. So what about you? How come you're not in the Space Corps? It can't just be the chair."

"You don't seem particularly surprised by my chair," Arnold said, explaining how a land mine in his sandbox had damaged his spine.

"Your parents probably aren't much different from mine...completely bonkers and tight as a cork in a bottle of new wine. I'm guessing they refused to shell out."

"Got it in one," Arnold agreed dryly. "They did, quite accidentally, hire me a rather good nurse. Father gave up on me joining the Corps. I was left alone, after that. My nurse and the gardener take care of me. "

"Where is your nurse?" Ace asked, looking around a bit. The few adults around all seemed focused on the children playing nearby. He was a bit surprised, when the children called out to Arnold, familiarly waving and shouting hello.

"She's closer to the lake. She just stays within shouting distance. I prefer it."

"You don't like her?"

"She's been more of a mother to me than my own. No. I just don't need someone hovering, while I'm trying to work."

"You're an artist, then," Ace mused. "You found your own dream to pursue."

"I suppose you could see it that way."

"How do you see it?"

"Look, I know what my parents and brothers and their cronies think of artists. It seems to be a typical Space Corps attitude. I'm good at what I do, though, so keep your opinions to yourself, all right?"

"This guy giving you trouble, Arnie?"

Ace Rimmer whirled around in surprise to find himself facing this universe's Dave Lister. He looked almost identical to the Lister Ace had first met, though his dreadlocks were a bit shorter and he was a bit, just a bit, tidier in his appearance. Ace couldn't help grinning, which brought a scowl to Lister's face. Lister surprised Ace by stepping forward and giving him a good, hard shove.

"Get out of his face, you smegging twonk. You one of his brothers? Eh?"

"Oh, knock it the hell off, Dave," Arnold said, angry and resigned. "He's no relative that I recognize. In fact, he claims to be me from an alternate reality."

"You wha'?" Lister exclaimed, his face scrunching in confusion.

"Hello, Listy," Ace greeted, smiling ruefully, holding out his hand for Lister to shake. "I'm Arnold Rimmer, but people call me Ace."

Lister instinctively began to reach out his own hand, but then stopped. He'd heard enough stories from Arnie about his family. No way was he trusting this smegger. He lowered his hand and walked over to the only Rimmer he cared to know.

"Been telling him about me, have ya?" Lister asked Arnold, sounding a bit unsure, as he walked around to the back of the hoverchair and climbed on, his arms resting near Arnold's shoulders.

"I certainly have not," Arnold answered, but a small smile was beginning to show at the corners of his mouth.

"Not a word," Ace agreed. "I'm even more surprised to see you on Io, than I am him."

"It's got a good art college, though, hasn't it?" Lister said, shrugging. "You knew me, so where's your Dave, then?"

There was nothing to say this man knew any Dave Lister, even if he was telling the truth about being from an alternate universe. Lister was curious to see how the man responded though. Maybe, if he was lying, Lister could trip him up, if they kept talking.

Ace hesitated a moment, then shrugged, answering, "He ended up in the Space Corps, too. I haven't seen him in a while, but he was serving on a mining ship called Red Dwarf."

Ace felt a bit guilty about the near lie, but he thought it was too early in their acquaintance to tell them that his Lister was lost in deep space and had recently lost Red Dwarf, as well. Why burden these young men with the knowledge?

"Me in the Space Corps?!" Lister said, laughing. "No way would I ever join that group of tossers. No offense, mate."

"None taken," Ace assured him, chuckling. "As they say, he had his reasons."

"Yeah? Like what?" Lister said, skeptically.

"He did a pub crawl on his birthday and ended up needing transport to get back to Earth. He decided to work his way back to Earth on board Red Dwarf. He wants to start a farm and donut stand on Fiji."

"Fiji?" Lister repeated, shaking his head. "What about his art, then?"

"Well, he did go to art college, briefly, but, according to him, he just couldn't stand getting up that damn early."

Arnold burst into laughter, his head going back and bumping Lister on the shoulder.

"Well, that does sound like you, Davey!"

"Oh, it does, does it? Why am I in my second year, then, eh? I'm doing good!"

"Yes, but you do whinge a lot about getting up for classes," Arnold said, almost soothingly.

"Yeah, well, we're artists!" Lister said. "I mean, what's the point of being an artist, if you follow a nine to five schedule? You might as well be one of those sad smeggers that work in high rises."

Lister rocked the hoverchair backwards and forwards a bit. He wasn't going to admit it, but the whole getting drunk and ending up in the Space Corps wasn't exactly far-fetched. Before he had met Arnie, he'd done things like that. This Ace guy was beginning to seem like he was on the up and up...which was just plain weird.

"Oh, Listy," Ace said, chuckling. He felt a brief pang, remembering his own Lister and their old squabbling and banter. "How did you two meet?"

"I started coming here to do some drawing and stuff, for class work," Dave said, shrugging. "Arnie comes here a lot and I bumped into him."

"Literally. He was walking backwards and tripped over me," Arnold clarified, huffing a bit. "Then, he started pestering me."

"You were all frowning and serious," Lister protested. "You needed to lighten up and have a laugh. Still do, in fact, and, if there's one thing I'm good for it's a laugh!"

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Arnie said wryly. "It didn't help that he found out I'm an artist, too."

"You love it, Arnie. You just refuse to admit it," Lister told him, smiling cheekily.

"I've gotten used to you well enough, I suppose," Arnold granted, but the look he gave over his shoulder was fond.

"So how about you? Do any art in your spare time?" Lister asked.

"Don't be a gimboid, Dave. He's a space-faring hero. He has better options."

"You wish you were in the Space Corps, then?" Ace asked, feeling oddly disappointed.

"Hell, no!" Arnold swore, shaking his head vigorously. "The only good thing about this damn chair is it got me out of that. No, it's just...I'll never know. Am I an artist, because I choose to be or because it gave me something to do while sitting in this chair, in a park? After all, Mother and Father would never have paid for me to pursue a proper career."

"Your art is a proper career!" Lister said, indignantly.

"Doing sketches and caricatures in a park is hardly a proper job, Dave," Arnold snapped, tired of this argument.

"You've had paintings in galleries!"

"Oh, yes, the odd picture here and there, placed by your friends!"

"They didn't do it for me. They did it because they like your work, you silly git!"

"So, they told you," Arnold admitted, shrugging. "They're _probably_ telling the truth, but I don't know that!"

"You should leave Io. Get out and see the universe, Space Corps or otherwise. There's ways."

"Oh, yes, that would go over well. 'Father, I can't join the Space Corps like you wanted, but I could help pay some of the expense, if you set me up on a tour of the universe!'"

"Forget Father and Mother," Ace ordered, his voice strong and deep, accepting no excuses, not this time. "You need to get free of them."

"Where would I go? What would I do?" Arnold asked helplessly.

"Anywhere and anything you want," Ace answered simply.

"But, I _don't_ want," Arnold complained. "Everything I know is here. If I just left...it'd be different, if I was going towards something. As is, I'd just be running away."

Ace considered that and nodded in understanding.

"You need a purpose," he mused, taking a quick glance at Dave. "What if I could give you one?"

"How do propose to do that?"

"I can train you. You could be the next Ace."

"I'm paralyzed, you goit! I mean, I was lucky. It's an incomplete injury. I do still have some sensation and I can go to the bathroom on my own. I can even...erm, perform," Arnold finished a bit lamely, blushing brightly and almost involuntarily casting a glance back at Dave. To his annoyance, Lister was smirking and nodding vigorously. "Stop it, Lister!"

"Wha? I didn't say anything!" Lister protested.

"I can get you fixed up. I've got plenty of money, from several dimensions. At least, then, whatever you decided to do, you'd know it was your choice. You wouldn't have to worry you were settling."

"What about me, then? Could I go?" Lister asked solemnly.

Ace considered that, then shrugged.

"He'd be Ace. It'd be his decision."

"Well...I mean, I would want you along," Arnold admitted, reluctantly. "You'd be giving up your schooling, though. You just said yourself you're doing well."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't be _quitting_, really," Lister said. "I'd just be taking a break, kinda. I could always come back to it later or do a correspondence course or something. I'm sure watching you do heroics would be plenty inspiring!"

"So you'll just leave, mid-semester," Arnold said with a hint of reproach.

"It's later in the year than that. He could always finish out the semester, while you're getting your spine fixed."

"You would really come too?" Arnold asked, a bit dazed.

"If you go, I want to come with," Lister said firmly, placing an arm across Arnold's chest in an awkward hug.

"Should we then?" Arnold asked him quietly.

Lister considered, then shrugged.

"You gotta decide that, guy. There's stuff out there, yeah, and it might answer some questions for ya. Still a risk, though."

"I need to think. I can't decide to head off and become a hero half an hour after meeting a bloke who looks like me!"

"No, probably not," Ace agreed. "Why don't you two come along and I'll show you the Wildfire?"

"Sounds good to me!" Lister said enthusiastically.

"All right," Arnold decided.

"ARNOLD!" a harsh voice shouted.

Ace forced away the flood of tension that threatened to freeze his muscles, rolling his shoulders to keep them loose. He lit one of his cigarettes and took a deep drag as this universe's copy of his mother marched into view, her brightly painted lips pursed in disapproval. She stopped a foot or two away and glared around at the men.

"Arnold, where is that useless nurse of yours?"

"She's next to the lake, Mother," Arnie answered, his tone even and respectful.

"Oh, I hope she's enjoying herself," Mrs. Rimmer said snidely. "I need her to get you home. Your father invited some guests over for luncheon and you'll need to change your clothes. You may not have a decent job, but I won't have you embarrass me by looking like some ragamuffin!"

"He looks good to me," Lister retorted.

"Dave," Arnold hissed, mortified.

Mrs. Rimmer gave Lister a long look of contempt. She put on a fake smile, her voice dripping with icy civility.

"Thank you, but these are _important_ people, you see. I'd like my son to pretend he has a certain amount of class-not the sort of thing achieved by being covered in paint stains, like a child in preschool."

"Dave," Ace warned, seeing him drawing breath to give the woman a proper take down.

Mrs. Rimmer turned to Ace and frowned, confused.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Ace. I just dropped by to meet Arnie, here."

"Did my husband invite you to luncheon?" she said, a slight simper entering her voice that made Ace shiver. "There's room for one more."

"Thanks, but no," Ace said firmly. "I quite like art. If your son has to leave, I'll have Dave show me some of his work."

"Yes, I'm sure that young man has plenty he'd like to show you!" Mrs. Rimmer said with distaste.

"She thinks I'm a slag," Lister whispered loudly to Ace.

"Are you?" Ace teased, not bothering to keep his voice down.

Lister snickered, shrugging, while Arnold rolled his eyes.

"Lister," Arnold almost snapped, before modulating his tone. "We should probably hurry. Dave, get down please. I'll see you later."

Mrs. Rimmer waited until Dave had gone to stand near Ace, before getting behind her son and working the controls of the hoverchair. She eyed the two men with suspicion and disdain.

"Well, it was good to meet you, Ace," Mrs. Rimmer said dismissively. "Mr. Lister."

"Good-bye," Arnold told them. "Oh and Ace? About earlier? I think you're right. I'll do it."

"Do what?" Mrs. Rimmer asked sharply.

"He's taking on a sort of commission for me," Ace lied, winking at Arnold. "Something he's well suited for."

"Oh, his art," Mrs. Rimmer said, sighing. "Well, I suppose he has to waste time somehow. Good-bye."

Mrs. Rimmer pushed Arnold over the grass, either not noticing or not caring that his knuckles had turned white, as he clenched his fists in anger. Arnold forced himself to relax. He hoped it wouldn't take long to get his new life started. He couldn't wait to be rid of the old one. The only things he wanted to keep from his current life were his relationship with Dave and his art. A life among the stars had never sounded so good.


	2. Rediscovering Old Friends

Arnold "Ace" Rimmer stared in shock at the battle waging in the streets. Ragged, dirty, but very well-armed, mutants with cybernetic implants raced around on land rovers and motorbikes, harassing and fighting a group of ordinary humans. Well, not quite ordinary, they were all wearing the beige uniforms of the Space Corps, which shouldn't have been possible. The human crew were armed and fighting well, but were losing. Ace shook off his shock in seconds, grabbing weapons from the hold of his ship, then racing into the fray.

Ace planted himself in front of a particularly large mutant, Darok, riding a bike whose seat was level with Arnold's shoulders. Several of the human crew shouted in alarm, urging Ace to get out of the way. Darok sneered, aiming for the strange human with the H on his forehead. He licked his lips, enjoying the thought of turning the stranger into a streak of blood and guts.

Aiming steadily with a laser pistol, Ace fired straight into Darok's heart. The mutant's eyes widened in shock. He had expected a head shot and to be protected by his cyber enhancements there, which diffused laser blasts. Darok grunted in pain as his heart was flash fried, but held onto his bike, determined to take the human worm out with him. At the last minute, however, the human leaped into the air, flying over the handle bars and dislodging Darok with a well-placed kick, landing backwards on the bike. Standing and spinning around, Ace caught hold of the handles, just as the bike started wobbling out of control.

The human spectators gave a wild cheer, shocked and pleased at the display. One, however, tilted his head in confusion, not quite believing what he had just seen.

"Isn't that Arnold Rimmer?" Captain Hollister asked.

"Can't be, sir," Todhunter denied, puzzled. "That smeg head would never dare attempt something like that."

"No, no, the captain's right," Karen Newton confirmed. "I saw him enough times, after he failed the astronav exams."

A high pitched scream managed to over ride the other sounds of battle. Hollister and his officers turned to see Kristine Kochanski struggling between two mutants, each of whom had one of her arms and were pulling her back and forth between them. Hollister and the others watched in amazement as Ace spun his bike towards her, gaining speed as he approached.

Kristine Kochanski, the nano version from this reality, watched in horror as the giant bike hurled toward her. She was only mildly dismayed by the fact it was ridden by Arnold Rimmer. The sheer size of the bike used up all her terror. To her surprise, Rimmer managed to aim the bike to one side, squashing one of her captors, while simultaneously lifting her and the other mutant. A well placed blast from Arnold's laser pistol sent the second mutant falling dead to the ground.

"Get behind me," Ace ordered, leaning forward a bit and tugging her to the back.

"Rimmer?" Kochanski asked, even while obeying him, sitting behind him and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

"Yes," Ace agreed, his voice a bit deeper than she remembered. "I'll explain, but right now, we've a battle to win."

"Yes, right," she agreed. "I'm not armed, though!"

"There's a small pistol in my left, inner breast pocket," Arnold answered, spinning the bike back to head into the heart of the battle.

Kochanski grabbed the pistol and joined Arnold in shooting at the mutants. Heartened by the demise of three mutants in quick succession and an addition to their own numbers, the Red Dwarf crew began firing in earnest, following Ace's lead by aiming at places on the mutants' bodies that didn't seem enhanced. Soon, the mutants were down to six and outnumbered. Grabbing vehicles, they fled into the nearby foothills, leaving the Red Dwarf crew triumphant.

Everyone gathered around Hollister and Ace was relieved to see no one seemed seriously injured. He'd gotten there in time to prevent that. Pulling the bike to a halt a few feet away, Ace shut it down and hopped off, landing neatly. He turned to see if Kochanski needed help.

She stared down at him, puzzled.

"You're not alive," she said, perplexed, seeing the H on his forehead. Swinging one leg around, she faced him directly, still seated on the bike.

Ace grinned, reaching up and lifting her off the bike by her waist. Instead of setting her down, he spun around with her in a paroxym of pure joy. Kochanski grabbed his shoulders, laughing a bit in astonishment. The rest of the Red Dwarf crew burst into applause, partly for him and partly for themselves, in relief.

"You, however, are very much alive," Ace said, laughing and spinning.

Kochanski laughed again, as Ace came to a halt, though seeming to forget to let her down. She stared down at him, shaking her head.

"No, wait, though. How can you touch me, if you're a hologram?"

"Hard light drive, love," he told her, setting her feet gently on the ground, so she could stand. "I got it off a megalomaniac named Legion about five years or so ago."

"The real question is when and how did he die?" Dr. Newton asked, confused.

Ace looked towards her, frowning slightly in shame.

"Three million years ago, same as you, in a radiation leak..."

"Yes, we know all about that," Hollister interrupted impatiently. "You are Arnold Rimmer-second technician? From this reality?"

"Yep. I'm that Arnold Rimmer," Ace admitted, wryly amused.

"If Holly brought you back as a hologram, why is there a live version of you on board and where have you been?"

"I didn't know there was a living version of me in this reality. I've been traveling between alternate universes in the Wildfire, my ship there. I got an opportunity to do some good and grabbed at it, but my tour is almost over, you could say."

"Then, you're going to be staying? May I ask what capacity you intend to serve?"

"Call me a security consultant, Captain. My job will be to keep you lot safe, though I might lend my services to other people in need, every once in a while. Holly should have a hidden file, code-name dimension hop. Only you and Todhunter will have high enough clearance to read it. It will explain a lot to you."

"The JMC regulations and Space Corps laws don't contain provisions for a 'security consultant,' even _if_ you qualify for such a position," Hollister said pointedly.

"The Jupiter Mining Corporation and the Space Corps no longer exist," Ace said. "You're not a captain anymore. You're the governor of a floating colony in a section of space you're utterly unfamiliar with. You need me and what I can offer you."

Hollister shivered a tiny bit, unnerved by this new, confident, and dead version of Arnold Rimmer. Hollister had mainly adjusted to being lost three million years from Earth. He had brought his people down to this planet, hoping to find an Earth colony and a way to contact Earth and JMC headquarters, while maybe doing a bit of trading. Instead, they had found only the mutants. Hollister hadn't fully processed the idea that they were three million years in the future, from where they had started. He sighed impatiently.

"I hope this file of yours has some damn good answers, Mr. Rimmer. Do you have any questions you'd like answered?"

"I just have one for right now. Captain Hollister, do you know where Dave Lister is, by any chance?"

"Oh, yes. I know where Lister is," Hollister said, not elaborating further.

Arnold frowned, worried.

"Is he all right? I'll be damn angry, if whatever brought you back killed him off instead."

"No, he's not dead. He's alive and well," Hollister assured him.

Arnold's gaze grew more suspicious, his instinct and Hollister's manner assuring him something was wrong.

"Cat? Kryten? How are they doing?"

"They're fine. Just dandy," Hollister said.

"Then what's the bad news, Skipper? I can tell there is some," Ace prodded, his voice deepening to almost a growl.

"They're in prison. All five of them."

"Five?"

"Yes, _you_ are also in prison, the alive version, at any rate. There's also another Kristine Kochanski, who, if Lister is to be believed, is from an alternate reality. They're all serving a two year sentence for misuse of other people's private, personal information."

Ace stared at him blankly for a few seconds, before his lips turned up in a smile.

"Well, it could be a lot worse. I'd like a chance to speak with Lister, if you don't mind. I've been looking forward to rejoining my old shipmates."

"All right. You can come aboard and see Lister, while I look at that file."

"Thank you, Skipper. I appreciate it," Ace told him.

Ace boarded Starbug with the others, sprawling in one of the passenger seats, near Kochanski.

"Have you seen Lister, since you were brought back?" Ace asked her.

"No. He isn't still obsessed with me, is he?" she asked, worried.

"I'm not quite sure where his heart stands, I'm afraid. It's been awhile, since I've seen him, myself. There's always the chance he has something going with the other Kochanski."

"Where did she come from?" Kochanski asked, puzzled.

"I'm not sure. She must have come aboard, after I left."

"Well, I wish them luck, if they are together."

"No interest at all in him, then?"

"No. I like him and I'd like us to be friends, once he's out of jail, but it was never as serious for me, as for him," Kochanski admitted.

Arnold nodded, pleasantly, lighting up one of his thin cigarettes. Sometimes, he cursed the original Ace for smoking the damn things, but it was a habit he'd gotten used to and even come to enjoy.

"Fair enough. We'll just have to see how things go, eh?"

"Why so much interest in Lister? You two never seemed very close."

"We weren't, but then we were. We spent almost seven years in close company, sharing danger, boredom, and everything in between. We've saved each others' lives and almost got each other killed. It creates a bond."

"You mean, during the time we were...dead?"

"Afraid so, love," Arnold confirmed, sympathetically. "You're alive now, though. That's the important bit."

Kochanski gave a small shiver. She'd been dead. Everyone had been told that much by Hollister, of course, but the knowledge had felt vague, distant. There was nothing distant about this version of Rimmer and his palpable joy at finding them alive. His easy confidence and the new knowledge in his eyes made him seem like an apparition, far more than the H on his forehead. Kochanski thought of her family and, for the first time, felt an intense pang of grief. A warm hand settled on hers.

"Are you all right?" Ace asked.

"Yes. Well, no. We're alive, but..."

"Everyone else is gone," Ace added, his tone gentler than the words. "I know."

"Do you?" Kochanski asked, accusing.

"A couple of years after Holly woke Lister up, we found one of the mail pods. There was a letter in there from my mother, telling me my father had passed on. That's when it really hit me, that everyone I had ever known, except Lister, was long, long dead."

"I'm sorry," Kochanski said, looking away.

"No need. You didn't know and it was a long time ago," he said, earning a wan smile.

"Where have you been, though? There was nothing like your ship on Red Dwarf."

"I got her off another reality's version of me. Long story short, I went off to become a hero."

"Sounds grand," Kochanski teased, with only the slightest trace of disbelief.

"Not as much as people think. Mostly it's a great lot of hard work. It's needed, though," Ace admitted.

Starbug landed and Hollister came to the back.

"Mr. Ackerman is here. He'll take you to Lister. The prisoners are just heading to the mess hall for lunch."

Ace put out his cigarette, then bounced to his feet.

"Thank you, Skipper. I appreciate it."

"Ackerman is..."

"No worries. I know what he looks like."

"Right, good," Hollister said drolly, following behind Ace, as he headed for the hatchway.

Ace approached Ackerman with an easy grin, ignoring the grim stare that was meant to intimidate him.

"Ackerman, old chap, the captain says you're giving me an escort into the prison areas."

"Those are my orders," Ackerman agreed, suspiciously. "You will follow me and do exactly as I say."

Ace ignored the implied threat, giving a short salute, bouncing two fingers off of his forehead.

"Following your lead, as ordered, old bean," he promised heartily.

Ackerman gave a small pout, then turned on his heel and began a quick march towards the prison that Ace kept up with easily. When they reached the mess hall, half of the prisoner's were already eating, while the rest filed in line to get their own meals. Ace scanned the room, spotting a bit of trouble in the upper left corner. Kryten, the Cat, the other Rimmer, and a pretty lady were standing in a semi-circle around Dave Lister, who was standing in front of Baxter, a mountainous inmate with a violent temper.

As Ace watched, Baxter struck Lister full in the face and a small fight broke out among the nearby inmates. Kill Crazy stood on the sides, urging Baxter on. Seeing Lister go down, Ace jumped down the stairs, where he stood with Ackerman, racing across the room to his friends. He fought his way through the gathering crowd, shoving and elbowing people, sending them skidding a couple of feet back. Ace reached Lister and the others, just as Baxter drew back his heavy fist to land another blow in Lister's face. Ace caught Baxter by the arm, then lifted him, spinning him around.

"Leave him alone, old chum."

Baxter glared down at the hologram in disbelief. He clenched a fist, rubbing it threateningly with his other hand.

"Make me," Baxter taunted.

"If you insist," Ace agreed, shrugging. Without further warning, he drove a fist hard into Baxter's solar plexus, making him fold over in agony. Kill Crazy gave a snarl of anger and grabbed Cat by the throat from behind.

"HEY," Kill Crazy barked sharply. "Let him go or I'll hurt this one."

Ace spun around, his expression suddenly devoid of charm.

"Let my friend go," Ace ordered, softly.

"Why should I?" Kill Crazy asked.

"It would've kept me from doing this," Ace told him, lashing out with his foot. Kill Crazy stood to one side of the Cat, fairly exposed. Ace swung his leg in a sideways arc that caught Kill Crazy in his kidney. Hearing Kill Crazy's choked gasp of pain, the Cat pulled loose, making his way to stand next to Ace.

Baxter helped Kill Crazy to stand and walked away. The rest of the inmates took a couple of steps back from Ace, widening the empty circle, where Lister lay on the ground. Lister looked up at his rescuer in shock. Somehow, he hadn't thought he'd see him again.

"Rim...erm, Ace!"

"Hallo, Lister," Ace greeted, his voice not quite as deep as it tended to be.

Ace stretched out his hand to Lister, who took it almost immediately. Pulling Lister gently to his feet, Ace then enfolded him in a warm hug.

"It's good to see you again, Listy."

"It's good to see you, too, man. I missed you," Lister admitted, hugging back.

"Kryten, Cat, and you must be the other Miss Kochanski," Arnold said, turning to them.

"Wait, but...you're _our_ Mr. Rimmer?" Kryten asked, stunned by the display of affection between him and Lister.

"I'm afraid so," Arnold admitted, grinning.

"What? Ace is Goal Post Head? How can that be?"

"Every time an Ace is about to die or retire, he goes and recruits another Arnold Rimmer to take his place," Ace explained. "The funeral you thought was mine was actually for the previous Ace. I rather thought Lister might've fessed up."

"It wasn't my secret to tell," Lister said simply, shrugging. "Let's sit down. Apparently we have stories to exchange."

"We certainly do," Arnold agreed, turning and tipping a wink to the surrounding crowd. "Excuse us, please, old chaps. It is lunch time, right?"

The crowd slowly dispersed and Lister led the way to their usual table.

"You wouldn't mind going first, would you?" Arnold asked. "How on Io did you manage to bring the crew back?"

"Uh, that was my fault, sir. My nanobots got free."

"Well, congratulations, Kryters!" Arnold said with genuine enthusiasm. "They and you did a top notch job."

"Oh well, thank you, sir," Kryten said a bit abashed.

"I guess Hollister told you how we ended up here?" Lister asked, embarrassed a bit.

"He said what the charge was, at least," Arnold agreed. "Did you do it?"

"Well, yeah, but I was only trying to help y-him out," Lister defended.

"Please do not refer to him as me," the living Rimmer complained, staring at his double in a mix of wonder and disgust. "He's not me and I'm certainly not him!"

"Eh, come on. Don't start that again!" Lister said, wheedling.

"No, Listy, he's right," Ace agreed, drawing looks of surprise. "He's who I used to be, yes, but I've had opportunities and learning experiences he hasn't. It's not fair to expect him to just do a one-eighty and become me straight off. The potential certainly exists, but, like me, he'll need help getting there."

"What makes you think I want to be you?" Rimmer asked contemptuously.

"I used to be you, Arnie. I was just as bitter, angry, and full of self hatred as you are right now. More so, in fact. You haven't committed some of my mistakes and betrayals. God willing, you never will. I know how you really feel, your hidden wishes."

Rimmer blushed, not answering, and glared down silently at his food tray. To his surprise, Lister patted him gently on the shoulder, his gaze understanding. Rimmer relaxed slightly, though he kept up his mask of annoyance.

"So, that's our story, then. What about you?" Lister asked, then paled a bit. "You're not..."

"Dying? No, Lister, I'm fine. I'm retiring actually. I came here to find you and see how you were getting on."

"Retiring? I didn't know that was an option," Lister admitted. "Why would you?"

"A few reasons really. The most important is I found an Arnie J. who needs the opportunity of being Ace even more than I did."

"You're taking the smeg," Lister accused, though he didn't really believe that himself.

"I'm afraid not. Remember I told you about the time my brothers put a land mind in my sandbox and it went off?"

"No!" Lister burst out in surprised horror, his eyes widening.

"You sure? I could have sworn I mentioned that to you one time," Ace said, puzzled.

"Um, that was me, sir," Kryten reminded him. "You told me about it, when you were watching home videos.'

Ace considered that for a moment, then nodded, smiling.

"Right again, Kryten, old pal," Ace admitted. "Well, anyway, in this reality, the blast just knocked me out for a bit. In this other reality, Arnie J. was closer and got hit in the lower back. He ended up paralyzed."

"Paralyzed? How's he supposed to become Ace, if he can't walk?" Cat asked, skeptical.

"Oh, I know some surgeons and genius types who can get him going, good as new," Ace assured him.

"Do we get to meet him-Arnie, I mean?"

"Eventually," Ace promised. "Right now, he's with the doctors, getting put back together. To be honest, that's one of the reasons I'm here now. I was being a bit of a mother hen and the doctors asked me to make myself scarce for a bit."

"So, you'll be going off again, then," Lister said, trying to hide his disappointment.

Ace smiled softly, shaking his head.

"Only for a little while," he assured them. "Now that the Red Dwarf crew is back and Arnie is taking over as Ace, I think I'm needed more here than anywhere else. No, I just need to get Arnie on his feet and trained, then I'll be back for good."

"Um, Ace, you travel dimensions on a regular basis, right?" Kochanski asked. "Is there any chance you could take me home?"

"It shouldn't be too hard. We've figured out how to revisit dimensions. With Kryter's and Holly's help, I should be able to pinpoint your reality. Let me talk to Hollister and I'll see if he'll release you to my custody."

"Thank you," Kochanski said, beaming.

Ace sneaked a glance at Lister and felt a pang, seeing his friend look downtrodden by the exchange. Feeling Ace's glance, Lister looked up and gave a wry smile, shrugging slightly. The buzzer sounded announcing the end of the meal period. Kryten began gathering everyone's trays, but Ace interrupted to shake his hand.

"Short visit, I know, but the sooner I go, the sooner I can get back. Kryten, Cat, it's good seeing you. Take care, while I'm gone," Ace urged, smiling fondly.

"Right. Good to meet you," Rimmer said, with fake enthusiasm. "I'm heading back to our cell."

"It's good to meet you, too," Ace said, a bit amused, but still sincere.

"Man, you really did improve over that!" Cat exclaimed, clapping a friendly hand on Ace's shoulder.

"Give him time. He'll get better," Ace promised.

"It'll be good to have you back, sir," Kryten said, astonished to find that he meant it. "Things just keep getting weirder and weirder. Um...may I ask a favor?"

"Of course, you can, Kryten," Arnold said, placing a hand on the mechanoid's shoulder. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I'm currently assigned to the women's prison and I was wondering if you could help by talking to the captain. It just doesn't seem right to me!"

"I imagine it doesn't," Ace agreed. "Why on Io did they stick you with the women?"

"Because I haven't got, erm," Kryten began, fidgeting, "well, _you know_."

"I do, but you don't have female bits, either, being a mechanoid," Ace reasoned, shaking his head. "Right, then, I'll do what I can for you. I just hope the skipper is in a reasonable mood."

"Thank you," Kryten said, making a sound of relief. He could hardly believe how the hologram had changed. He wasn't quite the same as the other Aces, but he wasn't the old smeee heee he used to be either.

"You're welcome," Ace said simply. "Hopefully, I'll see you all soon."

"Later, bud," Cat said, wandering off with a wave. Kryten and Kochanski waved at him, heading for the female side of the tower.

"You really think you'll be back soon?" Lister asked, lingering.

"I should be," Ace said. "Lister. I am sorry. I couldn't tell her no, but..."

"No, hey, it's good!" Lister protested, then continued, his voice sad, but calm. "We were never like that and I don't think we were going to be. She wants her Dave, not me. It's what she wants. It's what's right."

Ace gave Lister a hug, gratified, when his old shipmate hugged back.

"I'm glad you're okay. I better get going and see Hollister. See you soon, Listy."

"See ya," Lister agreed, grinning cheerfully, before disappearing with the last group of inmates, heading off to the cells.

Ace headed back to Ackerman, who glared balefully at him.

"It is not your job to interfere with the inmates," Ackerman growled.

"Sorry, old bean, but I couldn't just stand by and watch an old friend get pummeled," Ace said, shrugging. "I've had my chat. I think it's time to go see the skipper."

"Follow me," Ackerman said, with disdain.

Hollister deliberately kept Ace waiting, hoping to make him impatient and bring a bit of the old, groveling Rimmer back into the man's manner. To Hollister's disappointment, Ace came into the office, standing tall and calm, relaxed in a way Hollister had never seen him.

"I've read the files. They were fascinating," Hollister admitted. "Any Ace Rimmer, living or dead, active or retired, is automatically given the rank of commander. He is to be assigned no duties that do not directly relate to the protection of human life and liberty. Commander Rimmer is answerable to the highest ranking Space Corps officer, unless there is no one ranked captain or above. In that case, Ace Rimmer is to assume command and will be answerable to the nearest local government," Hollister quoted, smiling with enforced calm.

"In this case, that would be you, Skipper."

"That would be me," Hollister agreed dryly. "So we know you're dead. What else are you? Active? Retired? You did mention staying."

"I'm in the process of retiring. I have a few loose ends to tie up. I have to get the new Ace up and running, then I'll be back."

"The files also say I'm too cooperate, whenever possible, offering any reasonable assistance. Do you need assistance, _Commander_ Rimmer?"

"Well, yes, you could do me a favor or two, Captain. I need you to release Kristine Kochanski into my custody, for starters."

"Only Kochanski?" Hollister asked with mild sarcasm.

"Only her," Ace agreed, shrugging. "I'm not going to interfere with your justice, Skipper. Lister admitted he did the crime."

"Why do you want Kochanski, then?"

"I'm not going to be Ace much longer. After, I won't have the Wildfire. I need to take her home, before that happens. Consider it exile, Skipper-an alternative sentence."

Hollister considered briefly, then nodded. She'd be gone and someone else's responsibility. He'd gain nothing by trapping her here.

"All right. I'll let you take her. Anything else?"

"Just one more request and it is a request, but I'd be grateful. Place Kryten with the other men. I know what the rules say, but I've known Kryten for quite a long time now. He's always been one of the boys. He considers himself a he. It's awkward and embarrassing for him to be in with the ladies...not what he's used to."

"I'll think about it," Hollister said. "Those rules are in place to maintain order."

"I can't think of anyone more orderly than Kryten, Skipper," Ace said, amused. "Placing him back with the gents won't change that."

"I'll think about it," Hollister repeated. "Todhunter will take you back to your ship in Blue Midget."

Ace stood, saluting smartly.

"Thank you, Skipper. I'll see you in about a month, from your point of view."

"Very well. Dismissed, Commander."


	3. Coming Home

Hollister glared up at Arnold Rimmer. Unfortunately for Hollister, Arnold glared right back. Sure, Arnold stood almost at attention in front of Hollister's desk, but it didn't help. The military posture only emphasized the challenge in the set of Arnold's shoulders and in his eyes.

"What happens, if I say no, Commander?" Hollister asked and watched as Arnold cocked an eyebrow at him, cool and unimpressed.

"I'd like to think you're not seriously considering that," Arnold told him, his voice better controlled than his posture. "Still. If you do, the transport and her passengers will become the responsibility of the current Ace Rimmer."

"And he'll do...what?"

"Find them another home," Arnold said, a hint of disdain creeping into his voice.

"Look, Arnold. I'm not trying to be a hard case. I understand what you're trying to do. But you said you would be back in a month and that was _six_ months ago. I expected you to come back and settle in as a member of this crew. I did not expect you to come with your own ship, which I'm supposed to provide docking for, and nearly three hundred refugee orphans!"

"They aren't orphans. Their parents are all on this ship," Arnold argued.

"Arnold, they aren't even from this reality! Okay, their parents were alternate versions of people in my crew. But, they aren't our actual children!"

"It works both ways. Ask the crew. Sure, there are a few cases where the child was a niece or nephew in this reality, but, for the most part, the children are alternates of the crew's 'actual children.'"

"For heaven's sake, Arnold, will you stop and think a minute? Look at our situation. Is that something you want to drag children into? We were all dead for millions of years, until some mechanoid's nanobots brought us all back. They even brought back people who weren't here during the radiation leak! They brought Yvonne McGruder back from hair on a brush she left behind."

"Yvonne McGruder is on board?" Arnold asked, stunned.

"You're missing the point," Hollister said, impatiently. "We are three million years into space, homeless, and I don't know what's going to happen next. Strange things that shouldn't happen _keep happening_ and it is no place for children."

"The universe is dangerous everywhere, Skipper," Arnold told him sadly. "No one knows that more than me. Here they have parents that love them and the chance to help restart the human race. Without them, we're probably doomed as a species and I imagine more than one person has figured that out by now. This will give them hope and a future to fight for."

"Ugghhhh," Hollister groaned angrily, rubbing his eyes, before sighing. "All right. What about supplies and living space? You say that transport can be made into a secondary structure-can attach itself to Red Dwarf. Do you have any idea what that would do to our fuel efficiency? How are we even going to feed everyone?"

"It'll increase the fuel efficiency by eight percent. I sent Holly the blueprints and files already. The men who built that transport knew what they were doing, Skipper. Also, I gathered enough supplies on board to last the children at least two years. That should last long enough for us to find a permanent home or to establish trade, once we get to the more populated areas of the galaxy."

"Where the hell are you getting all this stuff?" Hollister asked in disbelief.

"Ace is owed a lot of favors. There are plenty of good people out there willing to help, when the chips are down, especially with children involved."

Somehow, that was the last straw. Hollister tried to be reasonable, but he was a man of discipline and order, something he had expected from Ace. Before his death, Arnold Rimmer had seemed orderly to the point of madness! Now, the man was utterly chaotic. Good, sure, hell, heroic! Somehow that didn't make Arnold's unpredictable antics any easier.

"Get out of my office, Rimmer."

"Look, Skipper..."

"Leave!" Hollister insisted. "Come back in an hour and you'll have my decision. Right now? GET. OUT."

Arnold didn't even bother saluting, but turned on his heel and left the office. He'd dealt with other Hollisters and thought he knew the man well. Hollister wasn't the type to turn away children. Arnold grimaced as he stalked down the corridors to the quarters Hollister had assigned to him. One thing was certain, though...the children were staying, damn it.

Hollister did finally agree and the next morning, Arnold had the pleasant task of uniting the children with their parents. The work went quicker and easier than even he had expected. The Red Dwarf crew accepted the children with eagerness. There were a few tangles, naturally, but for the most part, Arnold was well satisfied with the reactions he got. Hollister sent the prospective parents, divided into small groups, to Arnold in one of the large auditoriums. The auditorium had a large stage and backstage area, where Arnold, Ace, and Ace's Lister were keeping the children. There were only three more groups to go, when Yvonne McGruder appeared before him.

"Hello, Commander," she greeted, sounding a bit wary.

"McGruder," he said, evenly, not quite succeeding in keeping a subtle softness from his tone. "Give me just a moment, please."

He went backstage and brought back a small boy of about eight months. The boy had curly brown hair and hazel eyes. Yvonne stared at him in amazement.

"Mike," she said eagerly, scooping her son into her arms.

"I'm afraid the poor fella isn't feeling his best," Arnold explained, running a gentle hand over the boy's curls. "He's had a fever and not a lot of appetite."

"Aw, poor sweetie. Don't worry. We'll get you settled own for a bit of a nap soon."

Yvonne looked up from the boy to Arnold, chewing her lip lightly. Arnold stared back, patiently, holding her gaze in expectation. She gave him a rueful smile.

"I need to speak with you in private, later, if that's all right?"

Arnold nodded, looking a bit relieved.

"We need to talk," he agreed. "I'll be done here by three or four. Meet me on the observation tower at four-thirty?"

"I'll be there," she promised. "So, is there anything else I need to do?"

"Holly's taking care of the filing and all. He'll have some questions about rooming and that sort of thing for you. A lot of the families are moving into the new section of the ship."

"Ah. Well, thank you. From all of us."

"You're all welcome."

"What am I doing here is what I want to know?" Lister asked, coming up behind Yvonne, who waved good-bye to the men, leaving.

"Rimmer? What's going on?" Lister repeated.

"Just a second and I'll show you," Arnold promised.

Arnold turned to the stage and gave a long whistle. Ace and Dave appeared mere moments later, each of them cradling a small boy a little older than a year old. Lister stared at the boys and men, stunned.

"Lister, I want you to meet the new Ace and his partner, Dave Lister," Arnold told him, grinning.

"Dada," Jim blurted out, pointing at Lister.

Lister snapped out of his fugue and stumbled forward, reaching out for the boys...his boys.

"Jim and Bexley? They said you'd found some kids of the crew in an alternate universe but..." Lister said haltingly.

"In their home universe, you met Deb Lister quite a bit earlier, but there was no problem with the boys aging. Your other self...I'm sorry, Lister."

"I'm far from blamin' ya!" Lister exclaimed.

Ace stepped forward and placed Bexley in Lister's arms, before taking and shaking his hand.

"It's good to meet you, Dave. Arn has told us a lot about you."

"Some of it was even good," Dave teased, handing over Jim, before patting Lister on the back.

"Thank you, Rimmer, erm, you guys, too," Lister said simply, unable to find better words for what he was feeling.

"You're welcome, Listy."

"We're glad to help," Ace assured him. "We owe Arn quite a lot."

"Yeah. Do you mind if I draw this moment? I don't need you to sit or anything. I got it in me head."

Lister shook his head, shrugging.

"Nah, man, go right ahead. So, you're traveling with Ace?" he asked, an emotion he couldn't place building up in him at the thought.

"Yeah. Before Arn came along, we were both artists. I figure being out in the universe, seeing new stuff, will give us material for when we go back to it."

"Well, you're doing better than me. I ended up in prison. My own stupid fault, but...smeg!" Lister exclaimed, turning to Arnold with wide eyes. "What am I going to do? I can't lose me boys over this prison thing!"

"I took the liberty of speaking with Hollister. He said you could give someone else temporary physical custody-a sort of joint custody arrangement. Sure, you committed a crime, but you didn't hurt anyone or intend to. So, you can pick someone you trust and you'll get full custody of the boys, once you get out. It's only another couple of months, right?"

"About that, yeah," Lister agreed, thinking. "Would you do it?"

"Yes, if you want me to," Arnold agreed.

"Well, you're one of my best mates and most the others are in jail, too," Lister joked, then smiled. "I trust you with them."

"Don't worry. You'll see them every day. I promise."

"No! NO! _NO!_ I don't wanna!" a young girl, Maggie, screeched, running into the auditorium with Todhunter close behind her. He gave Arnold a pleading look.

"Whoa, what's going on?" Arnold asked, surprised. Maggie had been overjoyed to see Todhunter earlier, easily accepting him as her father. "What is it, Mags?"

Maggie threw herself at Arnold, forcing him to catch her, before she fell face first into the floor. He scooped the child up.

"We live in that same room! The same room as before!" she sobbed, throwing her arms around Arnold's neck. "Tell him, Uncle Arnie! Tell him we can't go back in there!"

"Mags, Maggie," Arnold said soothingly. "Remember what I said, when we were coming here? This Red Dwarf is safe. We haven't traveled through that nebula here and we aren't going to. I warned the captain already. There's nothing in those rooms. I promise."

"But, Uncle Arnie, what if something else has gotten in there?" Maggie protested.

"Like what?" Arnold challenged gently.

"Moon spiders! They might have passed too close to a moon, with these spiders, and the ship flew away, but the spiders snuck on board!" Maggie said, gasping at the idea of it.

"Spiders. Special spiders by any chance?" Arnold asked, smiling slightly.

"Uh huh! They're big and green and they can spit venom and they're really good at hiding!"

"Woooww. Mags. We won't let anything hurt you. Not spiders. Not rogue androids. Not gas parasites in nebulas. You have an entire crew of people to defend you, including me. We'll do everything we can to protect you and everyone else. Okay?"

"Uncle Arnie?"

"Yes, Mags?"

"I'm just still scared," Maggie told him mournfully.

"I can see that. Is there anything I can do to help? Since you won't take my word for it?"

"Can I have a Mr. Flibble? Penguins can eat spiders can't they?"

"Mr. Flibble?" Lister asked incredulously.

Arnold grinned sheepishly at his old friend, shrugging lightly.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Flibble is Uncle Arnie's friend! They met when they both got sick. They're better now, though, and Mr. Flibble helps. He's so cute!" Maggie told Lister.

"Oh. Great," Lister said, pasting on a smile.

Ace and Dave had their heads together, chuckling quietly.

"We're not talking about an actual penguin are we?" Todhunter finally chimed in, worried.

"No, Daddy," Maggie sighed. "He's _usually_ a puppet, but sometimes he's stuffed."

"You don't mind, do you, old man?" Arnold asked him.

"No, not if it gets her to calm down."

"I'll get him for her," Ace volunteered, running off backstage.

Ace was back quickly and handed the stuffed toy to Maggie. She grinned, cuddling the penguin close. Lister shook his head in disbelief. Arnold gave Maggie a quick hug, then handed her over to Todhunter.

"All right. Are you ready to go home now?" Todhunter asked.

"Yes, Daddy. Bye, Uncle Arnie! Bye, Uncle Ace! Bye Uncles Dave!"

All four men waved bye, as Todhunter carried Maggie out of the room. When they were out of sight, Lister turned to Arnold.

"You're sick, man! Seriously? Mr. Flibble? That psychotic..."

"The holovirus is gone," Arnold reminded him, shrugging, unable to suppress a grin. "Look, I needed something to soothe a child and I didn't have a lot of time. Mr. Flibble was the first thing I could think of. Anyway, the kids love him! He's just a doll."

"So was Chucky, Rimmer!" Lister said pointedly.

"Mr. Flibble isn't into voodoo, Listy," Arnold assured him.

Lister tried to stare Arnold down, but the former Ace just stared back, cool and amused. Arnold finally cocked a questioning eyebrow at Lister, who gave an involuntary burst of laughter.

"Okay, okay. I need to get back. They got me in stores today."

"Nonsense. Stick around! I'll take responsibility."

"Will Hollister let you get away with that?" Lister asked skeptically.

"Only one way to find out. He doesn't quite know what to make of me."

"I just bet," Lister agreed, sniggering.

Arnold led Lister back stage to an area where he could play quietly with Jim and Bexley. There were only two more groups of parents left and, as Arnold had thought, he was done in a couple of more hours, finishing up a bit before four. He arranged a baby sitter for Jim and Bexley, then made his way to the observation tower.

Yvonne appeared at the tower promptly at four-thirty, a small bag on her shoulder and Michael in her arms. She smiled slightly, sitting beside Arnold, with Michael half asleep in her lap. Arnold smiled at the boy, tickling his chin.

"You already know, don't you?" Yvonne asked. "That's he's your son?"

"I've met him before, child and adult versions."

"Until today, I didn't really believe the stories about you traveling in other realities."

"It's true, though," Arnold assured her.

"I'm not sure what you want here," she interrupted, nervously. "I don't want you to feel _obligated_. I can handle this."

"Obligated. Smeg," he sighed. "Yvonne, I _was_ in love with you. The living version of me still is."

"Why didn't you call me? Until I realized I was pregnant, I wasn't even really sure that night had happened."

Arnold flinched, though his training as Ace kept the movement to a tightening of his eyes.

"That's why I didn't. Lister told me about your concussion and...pretty much convinced me you wouldn't want me to call. I didn't want to find out you'd slept with me thinking I was someone else."

"Why the smeg would he do that?" Yvonne asked. "I knew who I was sleeping with. I wanted that night to happen."

"Don't blame Listy, all right? He and I...we have a long history of winding each other up, bickering. I didn't have to listen. I could have been brave enough to talk to you and find out the truth," Arnold explained.

"I need to tell the living Arnold, too. Will he be happy? Are you?"

Arnold shifted a bit, nodding slowly, but somber.

"He will be, but...he's going to be terrified. He probably won't _act_ happy. Don't be fooled though. He'll adore the kid. It's just he'll be worried about what type of father he'll be."

"All first time dads experience that."

"Most first time dads weren't raised by Arthur Rimmer," Arnold warned. "My father...wasn't very stable. Arnie doesn't have a lot of experience with healthy relationships."

"Are you trying to frighten me off?"

"No, not at all. I just want you to understand him...us."

"Fair enough. Anything else I should know?"

"Just be patient and don't always take him at face value. And be careful. Together, he and Lister are a weird magnet."

Yvonne laughed.

"I think that last one applies to you, too."

"It does," Arnold agreed, shrugging ruefully.

"It's gonna be strange for Mike, having two dads that are basically the same person."

"Don't let Arnie hear you say that. I've never liked the idea of me and someone else being the same person. We're individuals, no matter how we came about. It's a bit of a sore spot."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right. I'm just letting you know. As for Mike...he's better off with a living father. I think I should probably take the role of uncle."

"And what am I going to be to you?" Yvonne asked softly.

"I loved you, Yvonne, but that was years ago for me. I'm not that man anymore."

"Hm. The living version is though. Are you match-making, Commander Rimmer?" she teased.

Arnold smiled warmly, charming in his sincerity and humor.

"I just might be, Lieutenant McGruder," he admitted, making her laugh.

"Well, then," she replied drolly, standing and placing a light kiss on his forehead. "I'd better help get that ball rolling. Say bye-bye to your Uncle Arnie, Mike."

Arnold picked Mike up and placed a kiss on his cheek, then handed him back to Yvonne.

"Bahye," Mike cooed, making the grabbing motion that passed for a wave in very young children.

"Bye bye."

Yvonne left and immediately headed for floor thirteen. Being female boxing champion made certain things easier and she managed to be shown to Rimmer and Lister's cell with a minimum of fuss. Both men were seated at the table, while Lister talked animatedly. The guard just rolled his eyes, letting her in without announcing her, before heading back outside. Yvonne listened with interest as Lister continued talking, his expression becoming a bit morose.

"So, we had to send them back to Deb or they would have died of old age within a month. I missed them though. I can't believe y-Arnold found versions of them that need a home!"

"Hurrah for him," Rimmer said a bit snidely, before his tone softened. "I'm glad for you though. Really. I am."

"Thanks, man," Lister said, then noticed Yvonne. "Hey, McGruder...and child! Welcome to the Tank."

Rimmer stiffened a bit, but forced himself to smile, trying to relax.

"Um. Hello," he said standing, trying not to twitch with nervousness.

"Have a seat, you two," Lister offered. "I'll go to me bunk. You two, um, talk or...whatever."

"Thank you," Yvonne told both of them, sitting down in Lister's chair. "This is Michael. I was pregnant with him, when I left Red Dwarf...before the accident. Strange that I remember that, isn't it?"

"You were pregnant..." Rimmer repeated slowly, sitting back down, not quite believing what he suspected she was saying.

"He's your son," Yvonne confirmed, calmly.

"Hey, Rimmer, you stud! Congratulations, man!" Lister crowed, pleased for his friend.

"Lister, please," Yvonne said quietly, her eyes never leaving Rimmer's face.

For a brief, horrible moment, she thought the hologram was wrong and this Arnold wasn't happy at all. His eyes were wide and, yes, frightened, with his mouth pursed, as he studied the boy. Then, his eyes turned to her and she noticed how bright they were.

"I...have a son," Rimmer repeated, still trying to absorb the information. "Well...yes, good!"

"Rimmer, relax!" Lister coaxed. "He won't bite...probably."

"Yes, thank you, Lister!" Yvonne said, a slight warning in her tone.

"May I hold him?" Rimmer asked, in a strangled voice. He cleared his throat, making an awkward movement with his shoulders. "Please."

Yvonne smiled, getting back up. She arranged the toddler in his father's lap and stood back. Rimmer stared at her for a moment, then placed an arm very slowly and carefully around the boy.

"Um. Hi," Rimmer said, searching for something to say to the boy, smiling slightly. "Michael. That's a good name."

"Give him a moment. He's really not feeling good today, but I needed to tell you about him."

Rimmer couldn't think of anything to say, so just nodded, staring down at his son. Michael looked up at his father with wide eyes. Satisfied with what he saw and sensed, he leaned against Rimmer's chest and placed his thumb in his mouth, resting. Rimmer's eyes widened even further and he instinctively rubbed circles on the boy's back. Yvonne let herself melt a bit at the sight. She placed her chin on her hands, leaning with her elbows on the table.

"You should have called me, you know," Yvonne scolded lightly. "I wasn't sure that night was real and, by the time I learned I was pregnant, I thought you weren't interested."

"You should've called him," Lister couldn't resist answering.

"You should have kept quiet," Yvonne told him, firmly. "Ar...hm. We're going to have to do something about names. The other Arnold said you spouted some rubbish about me thinking I was sleeping with someone else."

"That's what I was told!" Lister protested, ignoring the slight wave of guilt he felt.

"You were told wrong," Yvonne retorted.

"So you weren't concussed?" Rimmer asked, hopefully.

"Oh I was," Yvonne admitted, shrugging. "That's what made me think I might have dreamed the whole thing."

"Oh," Rimmer said, not sure if this was something he should feel guilty about or what it meant.

"I wanted it to happen though. You are cute," Yvonne told him, smiling gently.

"I am?" Rimmer asked, his tone incredulous, making her laugh a bit.

"Yes, you are," she confirmed, leaning over and placing a soft kiss on Rimmer's lips, which he remembered to return only as she was pulling away.

"I see things are going well," Arnold said, coming into the cell with Jim and Bexley. "I hope you don't mind. I tried to give you some time to talk, but I wanted to let Jim and Bexley spend more time with Listy, now we're both done for the day."

Lister hopped down from his bunk to hug his boys. Arnold set the travel bag he had brought with him down on the floor and took a seat on the lower bunk.

"Rimmer, Yvonne, meet my twin boys-Jim and Bexley!"

"Hello," Rimmer said in their direction, his expression a bit lost.

Bexley squirmed down from his dad and walked over to Rimmer, holding onto his leg.

"Play!" he piped, reaching up and pulling on the back of Michael's pants. "Up!"

"Oi, he's sleeping," Rimmer protested, trying to keep from sounding harsh.

"Bexley, no," Arnold said more firmly, standing and picking the boy up and setting him back with his brother.

Unfortunately, it was a bit too late. Mike sat up and began crying loudly. Rimmer froze for a moment, then hugged the boy a bit tighter.

"Hey, no, don't cry," he pleaded, looking to Yvonne for help.

"Just hold him and let him know it's okay," she suggested.

"Why should he believe me? What if it isn't?" Rimmer balked, standing.

Placing the boy on his shoulder, Rimmer walked around the room, hoping Mike would find the movement soothing. Mike just leaned against Rimmer's shoulder, continuing to sob in distress.

"Yvonne, please! I don't know how to do this!" Rimmer protested.

Sighing, Yvonne stood, reaching to take Mike from him. Mike had other ideas, throwing his arms tightly around Rimmer's neck and refusing to let go. Rimmer gazed at the small boy in astonishment, looking round the room for answers.

"Well, what do I do now?"

"Be patient," Ace advised. "I know you want to make everything better, but right now he's sick and upset. This won't last forever. You just have to see it through."

"But, why's he crying so hard? What's wrong with him?" Rimmer asked, flustered and worried.

"He has a small fever and I think he's got a tummyache," Yvonne said soothingly. "He'll be fine. He just needs some rest. Here, see if he'll take his pacifier."

She got up and handed the small toy to Mike, but her son turned away from it sharply, shaking his head.

"Nuuu," he whimpered, burying his head tighter against Rimmer's neck.

Yvonne stroked Mike's hair, murmuring softly at him. Rimmer watched her, awed, wanting to say _something_ to the mother of his child, his _sick_ child, but he couldn't think of anything that seemed remotely intelligent. He felt Mike sit up abruptly and was dismayed at the pained expression on the tiny boy's face. A horrible choking and wheezing noise came from Mike, then he began throwing up, sending a cascade of curdled milk and banana all over himself and his father.

"Oh, my gawwwwwwd," Rimmer groaned, shuddering in disgust as he turned the boy over, trying to get the vomit onto the floor.

The boy was sick for a couple of minutes, then went still, crying weakly.

"Is it over? Is he all right? I think we should get a doctor!" Rimmer babbled. "Does he need a doctor?"

"If he isn't better by tomorrow, I'll take him to the doctor," Yvonne agreed, tiredly.

Jim looked up at Mike, his nose crinkled.

"Awwww," he cooed, then pulled a teddy bear out of Arnold's travel bag. He held the toy up to Mike, but Lister took it first.

"Let's get Mike and Rimmer cleaned up, then he can have the bear," Lister suggested.

Fortunately, Rimmer was in his Canary uniform, so was able to clean up quickly just by removing his tunic and wiping up with a towel. Yvonne changed Michael's clothes, as he squirmed and cried, holding his hands out to Rimmer. Once the boy was clean, Rimmer took him back, staring at him helplessly.

"All right, you're all such experts," Rimmer grumbled. "Now what?"

"He needs to sleep. Why don't you lie down with him in your bunk. See if you can get him to nod off," Arnold suggested.

Sighing, Rimmer obeyed, trying to settle himself and Mike comfortably on the bunk. Lister waited until Rimmer stilled, then handed Mike the teddy bear. Mike took the bear, cuddling it close.

"Well. At least it isn't Mr. Flibble," Lister sighed.

"Flibool?" Bexley repeated, climbing up next to Rimmer and Mike, with a truck clutched to his chest.

"Mr. Flibble isn't here," Arnold assured Lister. "Bexley, sport, let Mike sleep."

"Sleep," Bexley said agreeably, gently patting Mike on the back.

"Oh, please don't make him throw up again," Rimmer begged.

"Calm down, ya smegger," Lister said, affectionately. "Come on, boys. Come play over here."

Lister herded his sons over to the other side of the table, getting down on the floor to help them play with the toys Arnold had brought. Yvonne watched them almost silently, casting occasional glances at Rimmer and Mike. Before long, both of them were sound asleep. Arnold had sat down in Rimmer's chair and watched the entire scene with a small grin.

"You look like Cat, when he's laid claim to something. What's that expression for?" Lister asked.

"Ace doesn't get moments like this, you know," Arnold explained. "He's always leaving, heading off to a new adventure. I didn't give it up solely to help the other Arnie. I wanted to come home. Mind you, I didn't imagine things getting quite this domestic."

"It's good, though," Lister said cheerfully.

"Yes, it is," Yvonne chimed in, smiling at her son and his father, the man she was fairly sure she would soon love, if she didn't already.

Arnold just nodded, leaning back to savor the moment and continue making plans.


End file.
